The Broken One
by Shellecah
Summary: Matt must face the wreck of a man on his hands when he publicly shames fast gun Trucco, scares him witless and throws him in jail. An objective point-of-view tale inspired by the episode "Who Lives by the Sword."
1. Chapter 1

The sturdy fellow in the gray wincey suit trod Front Street with a solid gait, and grinned when he neared the marshal walking the other way. "Hello, Matt."

"Joe." Matt returned the grin. "Headed for the Long Branch, are ya?"

"Yep. Goin' to see Tracy. That where you're coming from, Matt? Is Tracy there?"

"She's there," said Matt.

Joe's smile widened, the creases at the corners of his eyes lengthening. His side whiskers were peppered gray under his Boss Stetson. "I reckon I am the luckiest man in Kansas, Matt," he said.

"Tracy's a fine woman," said the marshal.

"None finer. I best be gettin' on. See ya later." Joe quickened his pace.

Matt planted his boots apart and blocked the walkway as another fellow approached. The man's steps faltered and he moved from the boardwalk into the road. Matt stepped off the walk into the man's path and the fellow came to a halt, his bright dark eyes raised to meet Matt's blue ones.

"Trucco," said Matt. "Where're you headed."

"Long Branch," said Trucco.

"Joe Smith will be there about now. And Tracy Falcon," Matt said.

"She is?"

"You know she is."

"So what if I do." Trucco adjusted his gunbelt, shifting the holster in front of his leg. The mother-of-pearl butt was carved with several notches. "I gotta right to go there."

"Stay away from Tracy while Smith is at the Long Branch, Trucco," said Matt.

"No law against courting, Dillon."

"She's engaged to Joe," said Matt. "He's gonna marry her."

"He'll not marry her. I will make sure of that."

"I won't stand for gunplay, Trucco. You fight Joe Smith and I'll throw you in jail."

"Only if he draws on me first. Then I will kill him to defend myself," said Trucco.

"Joe won't draw on you unless you provoke him," said Matt.

"Not my fault he tempers fast," said Trucco.

"I'm warning you, Trucco. You shoot him and I'll make you regret it." Matt stepped aside and Trucco hesitated, looking up at the marshal. Trucco's eyes narrowed and his fingers toyed with his gun butt, his piercing gaze fixed on Matt's face.

Trucco stumbled on the edge of the boardwalk as Matt stared him down. He was a trim man of some twenty-eight years, with even features in an expressive face, a clean light-brown complexion and height in the mid range. He hopped onto the walk and hurried on to the Long Branch, looking back over his shoulder at Matt.

Joe Smith was sitting with a saloon gal in his lap when Trucco pushed through the batwings. Smith held the slender yet shapely young woman in his arms and kissed her as he caressed her silky auburn hair, a full beer mug in front of him on the table.

Kitty and Chester chatted at the bar, and as Trucco walked in, Kitty stopped talking, took hold of Chester's arm and nodded in Trucco's direction. "Sakes alive," said Chester.

Kitty hastened to meet Trucco on his way to Smith's table. "Miss Kitty." Trucco tipped his hat.

"Trucco, why don't you go away and come back some other time. I don't want any trouble in here," said Kitty.

Smith and the woman looked up from their embrace, and she climbed off his lap. He rose from his chair and faced Trucco, who tipped his hat again, to Smith's companion. "Hello, Tracy," said Trucco.

"Dante," said Tracy Falcon. "Kitty, can Dante buy you a beer?"

"I am here to see you, Tracy. Beg pardon, Miss Kitty," said Trucco.

"Leave Tracy be, Trucco," said Smith. "She and I are betrothed."

"You are too old for her," said Trucco. "She don't need no forty-year-old man in her life."

"Stop, Dante. I love Joe and I am going to marry him," said Tracy. Her eyes were large and pale-green, and her face molded along soft lines, like a sculpture of a goddess with skin tinted faintly gold.

"You heard the lady, Trucco," said Smith. "Go on to the bar and get yourself a whiskey. You look like you need one."

"Do not tell me what to do," said Trucco. "You think you are someone, Smith, with your fancy hat and shoddy suit. Two-bit horse rancher. You should take a roll in the horses' muck where you belong."

Smith's face contorted and he struck Trucco, knocking him on his back. Smith leaned forward, fists clenched. "I oughta break your neck," he growled. "No bounty hunter ever lived was worth anything. You're all scum."

Chester moved quickly to Kitty and put his arm around her, reached with his other hand for Tracy, and led the women to a corner behind the bar. Trucco struggled to his feet and backed up a few steps, his hand hovering over his gun butt. The men and gals swiftly deserted the bar and tables and stood against the walls.

"_Joe, don't. Please," _said Tracy. _"He's too fast for you." _She took a step forward and Chester pulled her back.

"Whassa matter, Boss?" said Trucco. "You yella coward."

Smith's six-shooter did not clear his holster. As his hand closed around the butt, Trucco snaked out his gun and shot Smith dead center of his chest. Smith crumpled to the floor and lay still. Trucco twirled his gun and holstered it.

Tracy ran to Smith, sank to her knees beside him and probed his throat with her slim fingers. Her nails were long and painted crimson. "Oh Joe," she said softly.

"Chester, go get Matt," said Kitty. Chester nodded and hurried out.

Kitty moved to Tracy, took hold of her shoulders and helped her stand. "He's dead, Kitty," said Tracy.

"You are way too good for him, anyway, Tracy," said Trucco. "You are much better suited to me."

"I thought I saw a tenderness in you," Tracy answered. "I wanted to believe it in spite of what you are, because you said you made your fortune and gave up hunting men for a living."

"I have given it up. I am done with it," said Trucco.

"You are even worse than Joe told me you were," said Tracy.

Trucco flinched and frowned at her, then turned his intense dark eyes on Kitty. "I gotta stay for Dillon. He needs to know it was self-defense," he said.

"You vicious little animal," said Kitty. "You goaded Joe to fight you." Trucco flinched again.

The marshal walked in the barroom with Chester at his heels, and the two of them looked down at the body of the man who had smiled and passed the time with Matt not thirty minutes ago. "Some of you men carry him to the undertaker's," said Matt.

As four men lifted Joe Smith's body, Chester picked up the rancher's Stetson and handed it to Tracy. "Thank you," she whispered, her green eyes shimmering.

"It was self-defense, Marshal," said Trucco. "All these people saw it."

"I warned you, Trucco," said Matt. "You just fought your last man."

Trucco stiffened and fixed Matt with a burning gaze, his dark eyes glittering. His jaw set and his mouth hardened, then turned up at one corner. "I think not, Dillon," he said, squaring off for the draw.

"Oh Kitty," said Tracy, her light voice tremulous, "not again, please." She crushed Smith's hat to her chest and put her arm around Kitty. Kitty tightened her arm around Tracy's waist and guided her behind the bar, and Kitty and Tracy stood next to Sam. Like votaries in a strange ritual, the men and gals once more backed up against the walls.

Facing Trucco, Matt cautiously raised his hands over his head, then lowered them in front of him, unbuckled his gunbelt with slow deliberation and handed it to Chester.

"What are you doing," said Trucco. Kitty let out her breath with a whoosh that stirred Tracy's bright auburn hair.

"Whass wrong, you scared, Dillon?" said Trucco. "Strong lawman like you? You should be ashamed of yourself. Belly-crawler."

"You're a punk, Trucco," said Matt. He sighed a little as he looked down at the man before him, and Trucco's crooked grin disappeared. Matt took off his hat, then removed Trucco's hat from his head and put both hats on a table. Trucco had straight, glossy dark hair that fell over his forehead in wisps.

"My hat," said Trucco. His hand twitched and strayed closer to his gun.

"Shoot me and you'll hang," said Matt. "I'm unarmed." Trucco's arm dropped to his side and his eyes narrowed as he stared at Matt. His chest rose and fell visibly under the fine black wool of his vest and suit jacket. The men and gals stood silently watching around the walls, while Kitty, Tracy and Sam watched from behind the bar. Chester, his round brown eyes fastened on Trucco, stood beside Matt holding the marshal's gunbelt.

Matt looked at the floor and sighed just the slightest bit again, then in one swift motion he clamped a hand around Trucco's arm, pulled it behind his back, snatched his gun from the holster and handed it to Chester. Trucco did not resist as Matt took hold of his other arm and held both arms behind his back. "Get his gunbelt, Chester," said Matt. Chester put Matt's and Trucco's guns on a table, unbuckled Trucco's belt and took it off.

"Chester," said Matt. He did not meet his assistant's eyes. Chester glanced at Trucco, then picked up the guns and belts and limped to join Kitty and Sam and Tracy behind the bar.

"What are you doing, Marshal," Trucco breathlessly repeated.

"You'll never draw on another man when I get through with you," said Matt. "I'm gonna beat you half to death."

Tracy drew in a sharp breath and took hold of Chester's arm. Kitty's eyes widened and her mouth opened slightly as she searched Tracy's face. "I can't help it, Kitty. I care about Dante, too," said Tracy, her words clearly audible in the quiet barroom. Trucco startled in Matt's grip and turned his head to look at Tracy.

"I think Matt will go easy on him," Kitty whispered.

"Yeah," whispered Chester. "Mr. Dillon's face 'n eyes gone soft. Trucco's lucky he's on the smaller side of middling. He ain't all there neither. Somewhat wrong with 'is head."

Matt let go of Trucco's arms, turned him around and picked him up by his jacket lapels. Matt jerked Trucco close to his face so their noses almost touched. Despite the cold draftiness of the barroom, a sheen of sweat broke out on Trucco's clear tan skin. He dangled from Matt's hands, the toes of his polished boots touching each other. Matt gave him a hard shake, and Trucco's eyelids drooped half-closed.

"No," Trucco said in a low tone. _"Non ho fatto niente di male." _

Matt set Trucco on his feet and released him. "I won't hit you, Trucco. You're not worth the effort. If you ever hound Tracy or trouble any man who courts her, or rile any more men to a gunfight in this town, I'll make good on what I said and beat you senseless. I'm gonna jail you a week, give you a chance to think on it." Trucco shivered and scowled at Matt.

"Chester," said Matt. Chester carried the guns and belts to the marshal. Matt strapped on his gunbelt and put on his hat, then took Trucco's hat off the table and put it on his head. "Lock him up," said the marshal.

"Let's go." Chester held Trucco's gun on him and gestured toward the batwings. Trucco took a step and tripped, righted himself and left the Long Branch like a somnambulant, with Chester behind him aiming the gun.

Kitty and Tracy moved in front of the bar and Matt joined them. Tracy still hugged Smith's Stetson to her chest. "I'm sorry about all this, Tracy," said Matt. "I would have roughed Trucco up more, for you and Joe, but I don't think you wanted that."

"Thank you, Marshal," said Tracy. "I am very angry with Dante, of course. I loved Joe. But there's something about Dante Trucco . . . I could hardly bear the thought of him beaten for what he did."

"I shrank from seeing that, too, Matt," said Kitty. "And unlike Tracy, I sure never cared for Trucco. You want me to walk you upstairs to your room, Tracy?"

"No . . . it's odd, but I want to be around a lot of folks now," said Tracy. "May I have a whiskey, Sam?"

"Coming right up, Tracy," said Sam.

"I think we could all use a whiskey," said Kitty. "On me. Pour yourself one too, Sam."

"Thank you, Miss Kitty. I did like Joe Smith. Terrible, seeing him gunned down," said Sam.

"Everyone liked Joe," said Matt. "Except Trucco."

"Trucco's not part of everyone," said Kitty, as Matt pulled out chairs for the women and seated himself. "He's barely human."

"I know he's not a good man, but he was insanely jealous of Joe. Jealousy made Dante even more unstable," said Tracy.

"Can't you make him leave Dodge, Matt?" said Kitty.

"I tried, Kitty," said Matt, "but he refuses. He's mulish, and obsessed with Tracy."

"I will leave town awhile and stay at Joe's horse ranch," said Tracy. "The place is mine now, and maybe Dante won't be tempted to hound me if I am not around. Joe willed all his money and property to me." Tracy's voice was calm and she was markedly composed. Matt and Kitty looked at her, saying nothing, then briefly met each other's eyes.

"I did love Joe, you know," said Tracy. "I am not _very _demonstrative, but I do love people and I love passionately."

They talked about arranging for Joe's burial at the churchyard, then Matt took his leave and headed for the marshal's office. Trucco sat cross-legged on the cell floor by the bars, a cup of coffee beside him. Chester sat at the table, facing Trucco and sipping coffee as Trucco's dark eyes studied him.

"Mr. Dillon," said Chester. "He's a settin' thataway since I locked 'im in thar. He's starin' at me so's I reckon he wants company and I set facing 'im."

"He say anything?" said Matt.

"No, sir. Jest sets 'n stares."

"You talk to him?" said Matt.

" 'Bout what," said Chester.

"About anything, Chester."

"No. Dint talk 'bout nothin'." Trucco held onto the bars, his dark eyes shifting between Matt and Chester as they talked. "See," said Chester, inclining his head toward Trucco's cell. "Thet's how he does."

Matt moved close to the bars and looked down at Trucco, who tensed and narrowed his eyes, leaning back as he looked up from his seat on the floor at Matt. "Trucco, I'm not gonna hurt you unless you give me reason to," said Matt.

Trucco made no reply, eyeing the marshal, and after a moment Matt moved away from the cell. "Leave the jail door open while he's in there, Chester. I'll sleep the week here nights, see how he does."

"What're we watchin' 'im for, Mr. Dillon," said Chester.

Matt motioned Chester away from the cells to the corner by the stove, turned his back to Trucco and lowered his voice. "Trucco won't leave town," said Matt. "He's taunted three men in Dodge to draw on him. That cow hand who cursed at him—"

"That warn't on account of Trucco bein' a bounty hunter once, though," Chester interrupted. "That cowboy cursed 'im cuz 'is name's Dante Trucco."

"I can't let him keep on killing every man that gets his dander up, Chester," said Matt.

"Second feller he shot survived," said Chester. "Fool tater grubber got drunk, grabbed aholt of Trucco an' hugged 'im an' tried ta dance with 'im on Front Street to _Buffalo Gals _playin' out from the saloon there."

"Those two men made Trucco mad when he was minding his own affairs," said Matt. "I don't hold with him calling them out, but it's understandable. Joe Smith's a different story. He didn't do anything to Trucco. Joe only asked Tracy Falcon to marry him. I have to make sure Trucco doesn't rile any more men to draw on him," said Matt.

"How you gonna do that, Mr. Dillon?"

"I'm hoping I did it at the Long Branch after he killed Joe. But I have to keep a real close eye on Trucco a few days to be sure," said Matt.

"Ya mean you spooked Trucco at the Long Branch? Broke 'is spirit?" said Chester.

"It was the only thing I could think of to make him mend his ways. Either that or call him out myself, and I don't know if I'm fast enough. And I hate the thought of shooting Trucco for some reason," said Matt.

"Same reason maybe why ya dint give 'im no beatin'," said Chester. "I surely did not wanna see it happen to 'im neither. Dunno jest why, though."

Shortly after nine that night, Matt and Chester played checkers at the table while Trucco watched them intently from the same spot he'd occupied since Chester locked him up that afternoon, on the floor by the bars near the corner of his cell. Matt paused with a checker in his hand to glance at the cell when Trucco yawned wide. The marshal and Chester had positioned themselves at the table so they faced the jailed man.

Now Trucco sat on the bunk, pulled off his boots, undressed to his underwear and arranged his suit and shirt, stockings, collar and tie neatly on a chair in the cell. He lay down and covered himself with the sheet and two blankets, and was soon asleep.

"Cain't figger how a body can tell a man's feared inside, that 'is spirit's broke," said Chester. "Troubles me a mite is all, Mr. Dillon," he said when Matt gave him a look. "I don't rightly know what I'm lookin' for in Trucco."

Matt gazed a long moment at the sleeping man in the jail cell. "Just tell me if he says or does anything out of the way that I don't see myself. Like sitting at the bars soon as you locked him up."

An hour later, Chester was putting away the checkerboard and pieces, and Matt had just put on his coat to do his rounds when Trucco let out a cry like a dog yelping. Matt and Chester looked at him.

His eyes closed, lids fluttering, Trucco whimpered, then pleaded in a rush of garbled Italian with an unknown assailant. Matt and Chester moved to the cell as Trucco thrashed around in his blankets, sweating.

"You know any of his talk, Mr. Dillon?" said Chester.

"Afraid not," said Matt. Trucco started yelling. "Unlock the cell, Chester," said Matt. Chester hurried to take the key from its peg, turn it in the lock and swing open the cell door.

"_Aiutami!"_ Trucco shouted. _"Per favore fermata. Non uccidermi." _


	2. Chapter 2

Matt took hold of Trucco's shoulders and shook him. _"Trucco," _he said. _"Wake up." _

Trucco woke. He looked up at Matt's face shadowed in the darkness and set in stern lines, and Trucco's eyes distended. His body went rigid, he sucked in a chest full of air, opened his mouth and hollered.

"Chester, light the lamp," said Matt, his hands on Trucco's shoulders.

Trucco stopped yelling and gasped for breath. "I won't hurt you," said Matt.

Shivering, Trucco cocooned himself in the blankets and sat up on the bunk, resting his back against the wall. "I dreamed you were beating me to death," he said to Matt. "Like you swore you would at the Long Branch after I killed Joe Smith. I had to tell Tracy I still loved her in the dream, and she smiled and was going to kiss me. Then suddenly you were there and you started hitting me."

"I said I'd beat you _half _to death," said Matt. "And I didn't swear it." Trucco stared at Matt without answering.

"You want I should fetch 'im a cup a whiskey, Mr. Dillon?" said Chester.

"_Yeah," _Trucco snapped.

"Go ahead, Chester. Trucco, you'd have it some easier if you'd quit yapping at people like a coyote," said Matt. Trucco glowered and said nothing, his dark eyes sparking.

"And if you think that look daunts _anyone, _much less me, you're addled," Matt went on. "You can't even scare a lady without your gun. I know at least one woman could thrash your hide without breakin' a sweat."

"She don't wanna hit me," said Trucco.

"Who don't wanna hit you, Trucco," said Chester, handing him a full cup of whiskey.

Trucco gulped from the cup. "Miss Kitty. She is the toughest woman in Dodge. She don't like you to hit me either, Dillon. I can tell."

"Mr. Dillon ain't never hit you," said Chester. "He jest roughed you up a l'il 'n give you a shake after you shot Mr. Smith to the Long Branch."

Trucco guzzled more whiskey and wiped his hand across his mouth. "She won't like him to hit me," he said.

The marshal's till funded breakfast and dinner for prisoners, and lunch was usually jerky and cold biscuits or pone. Matt added thirty-five cents to the money for Trucco's morning meal, and while coffee simmered on the stove, Chester bought flapjacks, eggs and bacon from Delmonico's for the three of them and carried the food back to the jailhouse with plates and cutlery in a basket.

The prisoner had washed up and shaved while Matt kept a watchful eye on the razor, then Trucco dressed in his black wool suit and boots. Chester served him breakfast before preparing plates for himself and Matt.

For a man of medium height tending to light in form, Trucco ate a lot. He consumed three big flapjacks with butter and molasses sugar, four eggs and a mound of bacon, and washed it down with two cups of coffee. Then he lay on the bunk with his boots on, pulled the blankets to his chin and went to sleep.

"He's takin' a nap a'ready, Mr. Dillon," Chester reported. " 'Tain't near ten o'clock yet."

Trucco let out a loud whimper and tossed on the bunk. "He's havin' another bad dream," said Chester, standing by the cell.

"Again?" said Matt.

The men repeated the occurrence of the night before, including the cup of whiskey. "If I must kill a man to defend myself, you will beat me, Dillon," Trucco accused, scowling at Matt.

"That's not what I said, Trucco," said Matt. "I'll send Chester for Doc. He'll give you something to calm your nerves."

Doc gave Trucco a brief exam and pronounced him bodily sound. "Your nerves are a sight frayed, though," said Doc. "I'll give you something for that. It will stop the dreams."

Doc reached into his bag and took out a bottle of blood-red liquid labeled _Elixir Chloralamid Hypnotic_. He poured a spoonful and put it to Trucco's mouth. Trucco opened his mouth and swallowed the liquid. "Give him just one spoon every twelve hours long as he's in the cell here. No more than that," said Doc, and took his leave.

The strain faded from Trucco's face not five minutes after the first dose, and his bright dark eyes dimmed and closed halfway. His neat frame slumped and he took off his boots, removed his suit jacket and vest, tie and collar, and dumped them on the chair in his cell instead of folding them.

"Look at 'im, Mr. Dillon," Chester said in a hushed tone. "Cain't tell a thing 'bout 'is state a mind dosed up stiff with that thar elixir."

"I guess not, Chester," said Matt.

Chester whispered, "He's likely not thinkin' anythin' at all. Nor feelin' much neither. I mean 'bout makin' other fellers mad to a gunfight purposeful, an' courtin' Tracy Falcon. Sech as that. An' you beatin' 'im iffen he does—"

"I never even hit him, Chester," Matt said tightly.

"Oh, I know. I know you dun want to, Mr. Dillon. My drift is, why're you holdin' Trucco locked in that cell if he's not thinkin' an' feelin' what all you jailed 'im fer, an' you cain't tell nothin' 'bout what's inside his head when he's swoony with medicine," said Chester.

"I can see past the sedation. I know what to look for," said Matt.

Trucco had no more nightmares the rest of the week he spent in the jail cell. He slept soundly at night and napped off and on through the days.

"Chester is the jailer here, yes?" Trucco abruptly called to Matt on his third day in the cell. Chester had gone to Jonas's store for provisions.

"That's right," said the marshal.

"He is not your deputy? He don't wear no badge or gun," said Trucco.

"What's on your mind, Trucco," said Matt.

"I gone straight caged in here. Will you hire me as deputy? I am fast with a gun, Marshal. Maybe faster than you," said Trucco.

Matt stood by the cell and looked down at Trucco sitting on the bunk in his stockings. "It's the elixir makes you think you gone straight, Trucco, on account of it makes you rest easy. The effect won't last. Doc said just give it to you 'til I let you out of jail. Take the medicine longer than that, it poisons you."

"I don't need no elixir to know I changed, Dillon. You spooked me that day at the Long Branch when I killed Joe Smith. I will not call a man out anymore when he makes me mad, cuz I fear your fists. Working for the law won't scare me, though. Working for you, Marshal."

"I don't trust you, Trucco. Besides, you don't have to work. You killed enough men bounty hunting to keep you living high all your days."

"It is not the money I need. I think a badge will help me forget my love for Tracy Falcon. It will help me forget how much I want, how much I _need_ a woman I can love, even if she is not Tracy," said Trucco.

"You killed the man Tracy loved. If you courted her again, she'd likely reject you. And considering your reputation, Trucco, I figure no decent woman will want you. You're reaping the harvest you sowed, and you just have to live with it," said Matt.

The prisoner rose from the bunk and moved to stand in front of Matt. His dark eyes at once luminous and piercing, Trucco gripped the bars of his cell and looked up at Matt. "I cannot live like this. Since you shamed me in front of Tracy and Miss Kitty and all of them at the Long Branch after I killed Joe Smith, I am always scared now. Only as your deputy I would not be, Dillon. I understand why Chester can work as your assistant. He has little fear at your side, and the fear he does have turns to courage."

Matt gazed down at Trucco a moment before answering. "I'm not gonna hire you, Trucco, so you can get _that _idea out of your head."

Trucco's face twisted and he tried to shake the bars. The cells were well constructed and the bars didn't budge. _"Hai messo questa paura in me. Portalo via!" _

"Easy," said Matt. "I don't speak Italian. Tell me what you said."

"You put this fear in me. You _must_ take it away," said Trucco.

"Trucco, you don't deserve any help from me. But I'll see what I can do."

"What are you going to do?" Trucco asked.

"I'll let you know," said Matt. As the two men eyed each other a moment in silence, the front door opened.

"Chester is back with the lunch? He takes a long time playing in Jonas's store. Like a young boy," said Trucco. As he looked past Matt to the jail doorway, Trucco's eyes widened and softened, and he let go of the cell bars. _"Tracy," _he breathed.

"Hello, Dante," said Tracy Falcon. She wore finery fancier than Kitty's best. An emerald-studded comb in her shining auburn hair matched her light-green eyes, and she wore gold and emerald earbobs.

"Tracy," said Matt.

"Marshal." Tracy tucked a stray ringlet behind her ear. "My frippery is disgraceful in a cow town like Dodge, I know. Joe's horse ranch is very prosperous and he left a lot of money in the bank, and it's all mine now, so I suppose I have forgotten myself. I could never afford such nice things as a saloon gal."

"You are beautiful, Tracy. An angel," Trucco said softly.

"Thank you. May I sit with him awhile, Marshal?" said Tracy.

"Sure. If you don't mind me standing at the bars while you visit," said Matt.

"But that's not necessary," said Tracy. "Dante would never hurt me."

"Sorry. Long as Trucco's in jail, I'm responsible to know about any conversation he has with anyone who comes in here," said Matt.

"Why is he _in _jail, Marshal," Tracy said. "Oh, don't misunderstand me, I completely disagree with Dante inciting Joe to draw on him, but it _was _self-defense. Dante did not put a gun to Joe's head and order him to draw. Poor Joe and that foolish temper of his. He knew Dante was way too fast for him."

Matt and Trucco stared at her, then Trucco smiled slightly, not in the tight crooked way he had grinned after killing Joe at the Long Branch. Matt unlocked the cell door, and rather than sitting in the chair by the bunk, Tracy seated herself on the bed and patted the mattress. "Sit down, Dante," she said.

Matt leaned on the wall outside the cell and waited quietly while Tracy and Trucco talked. She took Trucco's hands and they kissed.

"You got what you wanted, Trucco," Matt said when she left the jailhouse. "Maybe you won't need my help now."

"Tracy's love for me does not make this fear and shame inside me go away," said Trucco, "and I cannot ask her to marry me and protect her as her husband until it does. Go on with your plan, whatever it is."

"Alright," said Matt. He strapped on his gunbelt and put on his hat and coat.

"Where are you going?" said Trucco, and Matt looked back at him. Trucco had risen from the bunk and stood at the bars again, holding onto them.

"To the Long Branch," said Matt.

"But Chester is not back yet. I will be alone here, Dillon. A man could come in and shoot me dead and you would never know who did it. They hate me cause I was a bounty hunter and I killed Joe Smith. Everyone liked Smith."

"Uh-huh. That's a chance we'll have to take, Trucco. Chester and I can't stay here every minute," said Matt. "Your last dose of elixir is wearing off. Chester will give you another when he gets back with the provisions."

"Where is he, anyway?" said Trucco. "I am hungry for lunch."

"He'll be in right along," said Matt. There was not a scrap of jerky left in the office until Chester returned from the store, so Matt poured Trucco a cup of coffee, then headed for the Long Branch.

Kitty was at the bar chatting with Sam when Matt pushed through the batwings. She turned and greeted him with a smile, and the marshal tipped his hat. "Hello, Kitty. Sam."

"Matt," said Kitty.

"Marshal," said Sam. "Beer?"

"Thanks. One for Kitty, too, Sam.

"Kitty, we need to talk," said Matt.

"Sure. Let's sit down." They took their beers to a corner table by the wall.

"Is this about Trucco?" said Kitty. "Tracy Falcon just left here. She said she visited him at the jail, and she's sure he'll ask her to marry him. She said she'll invite me to the wedding."

"You don't seem surprised," said Matt.

"I'm not. Seeing as it's Tracy. She's a decent girl enough, but she's not one to let honor to the memory of her betrothed interfere with her cool practical head and what she wants out of life, which is money and a husband she loves," said Kitty. "Not that she didn't love Joe Smith. I think she did."

"How can a fine woman like Tracy love a man like Trucco," said Matt. "And she loves him, no doubt of that. I could tell by the way she kissed him at the jail. It's not his money she's after; Joe had his horse ranch and plenty of money, and he willed it all to Tracy."

"It's easy to love a man like Trucco, Matt," said Kitty.

"It _is_?" Matt jerked his head back, looking keenly into Kitty's sapphire-blue eyes, clear and reflecting light like the gem. "Sam said you called Trucco a vicious little animal after he killed Joe, and you told me you sure never cared for Trucco."

"What he did to poor Joe _was _vicious, and I was so mad, I could've clawed Trucco's eyes out after he did it," said Kitty. "I didn't say _I _loved him, Matt. But I understand why Tracy does."

Matt slowly nodded, gazing at her. "You said you shrank from the thought of me giving Trucco a beating after he shot Joe."

"I was . . . relieved you had mercy on Trucco, angry as I was at him," said Kitty.

"Trucco's built a tad smaller than the norm," said Matt, "and he's not at all bad looking. He likes women, he's sensitive and a weakling without his gun."

"Some women have a strong attraction to his type. They have a need to take care of that sort of man." said Kitty. "Like Tracy. Joe was nothing like Trucco, and when Joe was killed, Tracy's love for him started fading fast. There was no passion in her love for Joe."

"If Tracy loved Trucco, she should've chosen him over Joe," said Matt. "Joe would still be alive today if she had."

"Things got serious between Joe and Tracy before Trucco came on the scene," said Kitty. "Tracy was faithful to Joe, and she didn't want to hurt him. It's not fair to blame her for Joe's death, Matt. Trucco was out of his head with jealousy, and Joe riled up like a fool and drew on Trucco knowing his reputation as a fast gun. Tracy couldn't stop either one of them."

"You're right, Kitty," said Matt. "You usually are."

The sapphire eyes twinkled at Matt. "I've learned a thing or two," said Kitty.

Matt lowered his head then and studied his beer. He picked up the mug and swirled the liquid inside, then set it down without taking a drink.

"What's on your mind, Matt," said Kitty.

"Trucco's grown fearful since I threatened him after he killed Joe," said Matt.

"That's what you wanted, right? It was necessary to my way of thinking," said Kitty.

"Maybe. Kitty, whatever Tracy's faults, I think she'll make a devoted wife."

"I know she will."

"And she'll keep Trucco on the straight," said Matt.

"I'll help you help Trucco if that's what you want, Matt. For Tracy's sake, and because I feel kinda sorry for him," said Kitty.

"Tracy took a room at Dodge House so she can keep company with Trucco. Have her at the Long Branch when I give the word, and you be here too, Kitty."

Matt told Chester to turn Trucco loose four days later. When Chester unlocked the cell door and opened it, Trucco did not rise from his seat on the bunk. "Somewhat ailin' you?" said Chester.

"I am safe here," said Trucco.

"Well, you cain't hide in this cell the rest of yer days," said Chester.

"I am not ready to leave here. I need more time," Trucco said.

"You wanna talk to Mr. Dillon?" said Chester. Trucco nodded.

"You said you would help me get over this fear, Dillon," said Trucco, when Matt moved to the jail cell. "I am ashamed to show my face outside."

"Trucco, the way to beat fear is to face up to it," said Matt. "Without your gun."

"You are telling me to go out there unarmed?" said Trucco.

"That's right. I'm leaving my gun here, too. You and I are taking a walk to the Long Branch," said Matt.

"What will we do at the Long Branch?" said Trucco.

"You'll find out soon enough," said Matt.

Trucco put on his hat, rose from the bunk, walked slowly to the front door and stopped.

"I'll open it," said Chester. Trucco stepped to the side and Chester opened the door. Trucco stood still, so Chester went out, followed by Matt.

"Come on, Trucco," said Matt, and Trucco stepped outside.

They walked to the Long Branch in silence, with Matt and Chester on either side of Trucco. "What is going to happen, Dillon?" Trucco said when they reached the saloon.

Matt held one batwing door open a moment, then took Trucco's arm and pulled him inside. Kitty and Tracy stood together at the bar. _"Tracy," _said Trucco. He moved to the bar, trailed by Matt and Chester, and took off his hat.

"Hello, Dante," said Tracy.

Matt and Chester exchanged greetings with the women and tipped their hats. "Whiskey for everyone?" said Matt. "I'm buyin'." Trucco stood at the bar between Tracy and Matt, Kitty stood at Tracy's other side and Chester stood next to Kitty.

"A shame Tracy loves you, Trucco," Matt said easily, gazing at the wall behind the bar. "I'm minded to try and talk her into breakin' it off with the likes of you."

"Don't you dare do that." Trucco thumped down his glass, straightened up and glared at Matt.

Grinning a little, Matt turned to face him. "You can't stop me," said Matt.

Trucco dashed his whiskey in Matt's face and slapped him. Matt backhanded Trucco. Trucco staggered but stayed on his feet. Chester led Kitty and Tracy to the end of the bar.

Trucco swung at Matt, and the marshal did not duck or block the blow. The punch landed squarely on his jaw. Trucco punched Matt again on both sides of his face while Matt stood unmoving like a tree and the men and gals in the barroom stared. Two cowboys at a table near the batwings laughed.

Trucco rammed his fist in Matt's belly. Matt leaned over, then stood up straight and hit Trucco. Trucco fell to the floor on his back. Tracy tried to run to him, and Kitty reached out and held onto her.

Matt pulled Trucco to his feet, then smacked his back. Trucco stumbled and almost fell again.

Matt grabbed Trucco's hand and shook it hard. "You sure pack a wallop," said Matt.

Trucco swayed slightly, his dark eyes unfocused. Tracy went to him, cupped his face in her hands and kissed him.

"I think he needs to sit down, Tracy," said Kitty. "Sam, bring Trucco two whiskies, and one for Tracy. On the house."

"Thank you, Miss Kitty," said Trucco.

"You want another whiskey, Matt?" said Kitty.

"Thanks, Kitty." Matt, Kitty and Chester watched Trucco and Tracy move to a table, arms around each other.

"I sure could use a beer iffen I had a dime," said Chester.

"This round's on me, Matt," said Kitty, as Matt reached into his pocket. She called to Sam for two beers and a whiskey, and sat down with Matt and Chester.

"You think lettin' Trucco pound on you front of Tracy an' Miss Kitty an' everyone mended 'is spirit, Mr. Dillon?" said Chester.

"I think so, Chester. He hasn't asked me about picking up his gun at the office. Looks like Trucco has more important things on his mind." Matt, Chester and Kitty looked at Trucco and Tracy in embrace, kissing.

"That was a real kindness you did for them, Matt," said Kitty. "Most lawmen wouldn't do a thing to help a man like Trucco."

"Mr. Dillon is soft-hearted," said Chester.

"Trucco didn't think I was soft when I threatened and humiliated him after he killed Joe Smith, Chester," said Matt. "I spooked Trucco and I had to make it right is all. Especially now that Tracy will likely marry him."

Chester nodded, looking steadily at Matt, while Kitty smiled at the marshal. Matt's face flushed and he tossed back his whiskey. "I best get back to the office," he said.

"Oh, stay awhile and talk. Stop looking at Matt that way, Chester," said Kitty.

"That's alright, Kitty," said Matt. "I'll set here a spell."

END


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